The Way Life Should Have Been
by coolgurl4eva
Summary: Sometimes, the choices we make change everything. A collection of one-shots about various characters and their choices.
1. Chapter 1

Title: **He Did—A Story of Severus and Lily **

It isn't often that a person has a life-changing experience at the age of seven. He did.

The dirty boy from Spinner's End with ragged clothes that covered up the bruises from his father's latest drinking binge recognized that from the moment he set eyes on the adorable red-haired girl with emerald eyes, his life wasn't going to be the same. He saw the fire that burned in her eyes each time she defended their friendship when her sister put her down for it, and he knew that he had made a friend for life.

He introduced her to magic, and when she got her letter to Hogwarts, he was the first one outside of her family to know.

They sat on the train together, that first ride to Hogwarts. She excitedly grabbed his hand as they walked up the stairs to go into the Great Hall to get sorted. It didn't matter to her, like it did to so many others, that because of his upbringing he knew more curses than many of the seventh years or that he was sorted into Slytherin. Petty house rivalries meant little to the girl who loved her friends with her whole being.

For their first five years, they managed to maintain their friendship. They studied in the back corner of the library and she always told off the Marauders when they pranked him.

Then the day came when the pressure to conform and be accepted by others beside her became too much for him. That day, when he called her the dirtiest insult that he could, he knew there would be no mending of their friendship.

That didn't stop her from continuing to defend him privately or from begging James to stop bothering him as a condition to going out. Seeing her with James made him all the more determined to get as far away from that abused little boy who just wanted to be loved and to finally let the darkness that she had been keeping away drown him.

Slowly, as he drifted closer and closer to Voldemort, she finally gave up trying to save him.

She never knew that he snuck into her wedding, watching the beautiful girl that he loved, though he wouldn't admit it to himself, get married to a man he wished he was.

Had he known that the prophecy he overheard that day would apply to her child, he would never have told Voldemort, and he would have switched to Dumbledore's side much earlier.

He vowed that he would do anything to protect her son. He did it just because she, even though he had turned his back on her, hadn't willingly turned her back on him.

Truth be told, it wasn't James' qualities that made him treat the skinny, malnourished boy with the scar on his forehead poorly, it was the good qualities in the boy, the ones from Lily that made it necessary for him to close off his heart.

That first Potions class he was shocked to see the boy taking notes on his customary first year speech. He shouldn't have been, because that was the same thing his mother had done in their first Potions class. The only way he knew how to react was in anger, because that's what his protection instinct was.

He saved him that day when his broom was jinxed and he tried to save him yet again when there was a loose werewolf on the grounds.

Everything he did was for her, even all of these years after her death.

When her eyes looked at him from her son's body, full of hatred and fear, and called him a coward, he took those words to heart. He, for all of his supposedly brave deeds while spying, had been a coward for never telling her how he felt.

Now, as the poison from Voldemort's snake slowly spread through his body, just as the darkness had poisoned his soul all those years earlier, he did one final thing for her.

When the darkness faded, he found himself back in that same park that he had first seen that red-haired fiery girl in all those years ago. He saw her again, this time older, swinging on a creaky old swing.

"Come on, Severus," she took his hand. She turned those eyes to him and smiled. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"They couldn't have done it without you."

And for reasons no one, except her son could possibly fathom, Severus Snape died with a smile on his face. It really is possible to have a life-changing experience at seven. He did.


	2. Chapter 2:Remus Remembered

Title: **Remus Remembers**

He remembered the first time he'd walked across these grounds.

He remembered the feelings of finally being able to be like everyone else, even though he wasn't.

He remembered James and Sirius, the fun and playful duo who included him when few else would.

He remembered all those nights that they spent exploring the grounds, the nights of bliss that made being a werewolf just a little bit better.

He remembered running outside to get away from Sirius when Dumbledore and James told him what Sirius had almost done to Snape.

He remembered sitting in their little corner of the common room, planning their pranks and studying the spells that they'd need for the map, though James and Sirius were the ones that did most of the spell casting on it.

He remembered leaving Hogwarts for what he thought would be the last time.

He remembered the joy of seeing James finally marry Lily.

He remembered the stupid speech that Sirius had given as best man.

He remembered holding a newly born Harry in his arms and knowing, somehow, that he would do great things.

He remembered the awful fight that he had with Sirius and James about his reservations on Sirius being the secret keeper.

He remembered seeing the ruins of the house on the front page of the Daily Prophet, and weeping for days.

He remembered that train ride that he had taken back to Hogwarts, pretending to be asleep so that he could see how much Harry was like his parents.

He remembered shooing away that dementor and being so proud when Harry accomplished the Patronus Charm for the first time.

He remembered seeing Sirius again in the Shrieking Shack and forgetting all of the old wounds.

He remembered the pain in Harry's eyes when he told James and Lily's son that he was resigning.

He remembered the first meeting of the new version of the "old crowd."

He remembered the awful feeling of holding back Harry when he too wanted to fall into the veil after Sirius.

He remembered the chuckle it gave him to hear Harry refer to his "little furry problem" much like his father had.

He remembered that day in the Hogwart's Hospital Wing when he finally realized Tonks was the one.

He remembered the shock of finding out that his wife was with child.

He remembered the cutting edge of Harry's voice when he yelled at him that day in Grimmauld Place. It wasn't the first time he'd balked at a challenge set before him.

He remembered the pang of loss he'd felt at hearing that Peter was dead; he was now the last Marauder, again.

He remembered the fun he'd had while working with Fred, George, Kingsley, and Lee Jordan on Potterwatch.

He remembered the look in Harry's eyes when he asked him to be Teddy's godfather because he knew then that they would win the war.

He remembered the last hug that he'd given his son before leaving for what he knew might be the final time.

Now, as he lay dying on the grounds of Hogwarts, the first place he'd called home, he remembered, because he was the only one left who would.


	3. Chapter 3:His Parent's Child

**Title: His Parent's Child **

Molly Weasley slowly rocked her youngest grandchild in her arms. He was almost asleep, and that was something she was deeply thankful for. She looked at the still innocent face of the tiny (almost) three year old. From the top of his messy black-haired head, to his warm and loving heart, to the way his tiny hands were always ready to help others, he was his parents' child. Now, he was the only thing that she had left of Harry and Ginny. Harry had finally defeated Voldemort a few months before his child's birth, but hadn't lived to see it. Ginny had followed him before their child was a week old.

Every day, Sirius James Potter, known affectionately as "Siri" by his grandparents, did something that reminded his family of his parents.

"Molly, it's time to come to bed. We promised Siri we'd take him to see Ron and George at the shop tomorrow." Arthur gently took his grandson out of his wife's arms.

"I'm coming. Will you put the little one to bed? I'm getting much too old to run after little feet." She smiled at him, and then walked, deep in thought, to the bedroom to get ready for bed.

Arthur came to the bedroom to find his wife crying. It wasn't often that he found her like that, but this time, he had a feeling that he knew why. He put his arms around her and held her close. Tomorrow would be three years since they had lost Harry.

"Do you know what Siri did today, Arthur?" Molly pulled away, mirth and sadness mixed in her dark brown eyes.

"No, but I have a guess." He held his hand up to his forehead, as if deep in thought. "He snuck into the broomshed and you found him outside, flying around doing all sorts of crazy stunts."

"How'd you guess?"

Arthur sighed. "Oh, about, seventeen years ago, I caught a fiery red-haired three year old doing the exact same thing. I never told you, of course, I knew she wasn't going to let you know either." Arthur smiled at the memory.

"He's just like his parents then, I guess. Not just in looks, either, though he does look exactly like his father. He's also got his father's talent of getting into dangerous situations..."

"He has one wicked temper, which he gets mostly from your side of the family." Arthur ducked Molly's hand as it came toward his head.

"May I remind you, Arthur Weasley, that the child has three grandparents with notorious tempers? Remember your first Order meeting, toward the end of the first war? Remember the argument that Lily and James had right before they went into hiding…the one where all of the curtains in the house mysteriously caught on fire?"

"Okay, so his temper isn't just from you, though he's spent more time with you and Ron than anyone else."

"His good heart is definitely from his father. He's always trying to save some animal or another, and he cried for days when Errol finally died."

"He's got that innate sense of what to say when someone is sad or hurt. Ginny was wonderful at that."

The two went on for an hour longer, remembering the good times; trying not to remember the bad. The next day, Ron came to pick him up from the Burrow.

"You two need a day off. George and I are going to let him hang out in the shop for a few hours, then we'll close early, and he can come over and visit with 'Mione. She's his favorite auntie, you know." Ron kneeled down so that he could catch his nephew as the little boy, all ready for a day with his favorite uncles, came barreling at him.

Molly smiled. "Well, he's got wonderful taste where females are concerned. His choice of favorite uncles however…"

Ron hugged the little boy close. "He can't help it if he's got a soft spot for me, Mum. That's genetic, you know. I was Harry's favorite brother." He grinned, an action mirrored by Sirius.

All three adult occupants of the room were thinking the same thing. Harry and Ginny might not be with them in person, but their son was, and he definitely was his parents' child.


	4. Chapter 4:There Were Four

There were three of them.

There always had been, as long as anyone could remember. It had always been Harry, Hermione, and Ron. Sure, they had other friends, but those three were family before they became family by marriage.

At Hogwarts, they were known as the "Golden Trio" by nearly everyone.

Snape didn't like them because the boys reminded him too much of James Potter and Sirius Black, and the girl reminded him forcibly of Lily.

Dumbledore liked them because after all they had been through they were still normal, still together.

Remus loved teaching them because they had so much potential and because they were like the Marauders without a Peter.

Draco hated them, at first because Harry had rejected his offer of friendship, later because they had something he never would.

No matter what happened to them, through all of the rough patches they'd endured, something made them fall back on each other.

After Voldemort's defeat, life settled down for them. There were no more dangerous situations, and they liked it that way.

They all ended up at the Ministry of Magic, Harry becoming the youngest Head of the Auror Department, with Ron as his second. Everyone knew that Harry worked better when he could count on his back being covered in dangerous situations by the man that might as well have been his identical twin if it weren't for their obvious physical differences.

Harry and Ginny's children viewed Hermione and Ron as a second set of parents, and Ron and Hermione's children viewed Harry and Ginny the same way.

In later years, after all of the children were grown, the trio left the Ministry and headed back home to Hogwarts. The three of them were some of the longest serving teachers Hogwarts had ever seen.

At long last, the trials and troubles of their pasts came back to haunt them.

In their final days, whenever someone would try to separate the three, they couldn't. The connection between them, of love and of magic, was too strong.

They all ended up at King's Cross. It was where they met, and it symbolized everything to them.

Hermione was the first to go. She sat down on a wooden bench and waited. There was no way she'd leave without them.

Harry and Ron came together, just as they always had. "Ready to go, boys? The train is coming."

The boys, now looking as if they hadn't aged a day past seventeen, grinned. "We're ready. Except this time, someone else is coming with us."

A red-haired girl came running down the platform, out of breath by the time she reached them. "This is one adventure that you're not stopping me from going on." They linked arms and boarded the Hogwarts Express one last time, just as they had done all those years before.

They had been three as long as anyone could remember, and that is how it always was, and always would be in the minds of everyone. But now there weren't three--there hadn't been three for a long while anyway… now there were four.


	5. Chapter 5:Out Into The Sunshine

**Title: Out into the Sunshine**

Remus sat at the aged wooden table in his tiny kitchen, a bottle of cheap muggle alcohol in his hands. He hadn't started drinking any of it, but he knew if he sat there any longer, he would, though he never had been much of a drinking man. He left that to Sirius and James, because it usually took a lot more to get him drunk than it did them. He took a long sip, straight from the bottle. The second it hit his throat, it burned. He didn't care. At least pain was something for him to focus on.

The alcohol did not, could not, make things any better for him; in fact the more he drank, the more he remembered the things he wanted so badly to forget. All of those magical summers with James, Sirius and Peter, all of the pranks at Hogwarts…the ability to forget he was a werewolf, if only for a few hours. He wanted to forget those times, because instead of making him happy like they should have, the memories served only to remind him that James and Sirius were dead, Peter was dead from working for Voldemort, and he was alone.

"You aren't alone, Remus." In his slightly hazy frame of mind, Remus thought that he heard James' voice. James and Lily had told him that so many times over the years. He turned slowly to face the door and tried to get up but decided it might be better if he stayed in his chair. He couldn't tell who the figure currently standing, sopping wet from the thunderstorm that was going on, in his door was, but he knew the person was too short to be James and he knew that Sirius would have never worn an emerald green cloak because it was too Slytherin for him.

Without taking the soggy cloak off, the figure sat opposite Remus at the table. "Can I have that, please, Remus?" A pale hand gestured at the now half-full bottle. Remus nodded. The still mysterious guest took the bottle, dumped the remaining contents down the sink and sat back down after performing a wand-less drying charm on his/her cloak. "You aren't alone, Remus."

"Yes, I am. Everyone who ever loved me is gone or gone evil. There is no one left, and I'm alone. Even Harry doesn't care about me anymore. He hasn't written or visited in months. Before Voldemort was defeated, he used to come over all the time."

Finally the hood came off. "There are reasons he hasn't visited you know." Emerald met amber."Remus, you know that I've been at Auror training for the past three years. I haven't been allowed to write or talk to anyone except for Ginny, and that's only because she's my wife and having my child."

"She told me that last week when I was at the Burrow for their weekly dinner."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Right, because if you've been taken in by the Weasleys you're completely alone, and have to resort to drowning your troubles with cheap muggle alcohol?"

"When you put it like that, it sounds kind of stupid, Harry. I guess that sometimes my past catches up with me." Remus managed a weak grin.

"I know how that is, believe me. It's been five years since I got rid of Voldemort and I still have nightmares about things that happened then. You know what I do instead of drowning myself with a bit of liquid that's only going to keep the pain away for so long?" Harry reached out and touched Remus' hand. "I talk to my family, and I remind myself over and over again, that I don't have go on alone,because their going to be there for me. Do you want to know something else? You don't have to go on alone either, not when you've got a whole family of people who care about you just as much as my dad and Sirius did. Bet that you never thought you'd be able to hear that, did you?"

Remus shook his head. Harry helped him up and they walked out the door together, not into a rainstorm, but sunshine. Remus finally let go of the past, because he could finally embrace the future. Somewhere, Sirius and James were smiling.


	6. Chapter 6:His Dancing Angel

**Title: His Dancing Angel**

She was dancing, that first time he saw her-- he thought she was an angel.

As she twirled around in the small, somewhat dirty park in their not-so-nice neighborhood, he knew that she was special. He also knew that he wouldn't be able befriend her the way he should, because in his house, there was too much alcohol and not nearly enough love. Curses flew frequently, both magical and not, and new clothes, even second-hand, were a rare commodity. He took a chance, though. That chance would one day save him from a path of total darkness.

Sometimes, from the time they met until Hogwarts, she would dance with him. She'd sing whatever song was in her head and they'd twirl around the park, late at night, away from the prying, hateful eyes of her sister and the blood-shot, angry eyes of his father. Somehow, they both knew that their friendship probably wouldn't last, so these stolen moments were ones that both would treasure forever.

At Hogwarts, petty House rivalries, future Death Eaters, and James Potter complicated their relationship, which had been so easy and carefree before. They still took occasional moments to dance—she'd come and find him while she was on Prefect duty, and Remus would cover for her while the two old friends snuck into an empty classroom and danced.

Slowly, they pulled apart. He sunk further into the Dark Arts, and she found a new partner to dance with, a "forever" partner. She never forgot those first moments, though. She treasured them. She even invited him to her wedding, even though she knew he probably wouldn't come because he and the Marauders had never really got along.

He did come, and as he stood outside, watching her dance with James, he closed off his heart. He threw himself into work for Voldemort, quickly becoming one of the most-trusted Death Eaters. They were working on opposite sides now. These weren't times for dancing.

Then Voldemort tapped him for a special mission. He was to come with Voldemort and Pettigrew to attempt to "take care of" the one who the prophecy had spoken of. She was dancing around the sitting room, her son in her arms as the three approached. Severus wanted to run. He couldn't. As he listened to her cries for mercy, all he could think about was an eight-year-old girl, with long auburn hair and sparkling green eyes, humming whatever song happened to be on the radio.

He didn't think about her for the next ten years, not until her son came to Hogwarts. He had the same sparkling green eyes, the same fiery attitude, but there was something different about him. Something haunted. He wondered if her son had ever had a friend, ever been loved at all, ever had his own dancing girl. He couldn't like her son because he reminded him too much of himself, and he hated what he had become.

Then one night, all of that changed. He saw Harry dancing. How anyone could dance in the middle of the type of war that they were in was beyond his understanding. Then he was finally reminded of how much it would have meant to him to have that much hope, that much promise in the dark days of the first war. He let them dance, and he let himself have hope again. Not hope that he would ever be able to replace the hole she'd left, but hope that her son and his dancing girl would be able to do what his parents' generation hadn't.

In his final moments, he didn't think of the poison that was quickly racing through his body, he didn't even think of Hogwarts…he thought of that little girl, in a not-so-nice park in that not-so-nice part of town, the one who saved him from the darkness. His dancing angel.


	7. Chapter 7:Sometimes

**Title: Sometimes**

Sometimes, when he thought no one else was looking, Remus Lupin would make himself a glass of hot chocolate and pull a tattered, musty-smelling old photo album out of his battered Hogwarts trunk. Then, he'd sit down in the chair that Tonks kept closest to the fireplace and let the memories wash over him. He knew, some how, that this would be his last war; he wasn't strong enough to make it through another alone, and so as he let the memories wash over him, he'd write them down in a little book so that Harry and Remus' unborn child would have something to remember him by.

Sometimes he would look at pictures of Lily that James had insisted that he take because he wanted to look at them. Remus had grudgingly agreed, but only because James had threatened to steal his secret stash of chocolate. He would smile, remembering those days when there were no words like war or Death Eaters in his large vocabulary. There was a picture of Lily reading a charms textbook outside, practicing the wand movements for some charm that was two or three years ahead of where they were in class, and a picture of Lily slapping James upside the head when he asked her out for the 1,469th time. Then he'd flip a couple pages, and look at the picture of the 1,989th time James asked Lily out, the one where she finally said yes. He'd smile, knowing how happy they both were then.

Sometimes he would look at the individual pictures he'd taken of each Marauder. It was easiest to look at the pictures of James, but only because he had had so much time to deal with his death. There were pictures of James in First Year, his silver glasses much too big for his nose and his hair flying in what seemed like a million different directions. Then, he'd flip a few more pages, to the pictures that James had demanded he take of him as a stag. Most of the pictures in his album were ones that James had demanded him to take, and although he didn't like it at the time, Remus was happy he did. Remus always paused before moving on to the pictures he'd taken of James and Lily together, because those were the closest to the time when everything went so devastatingly wrong. There was the picture of Sirius and James at James' wedding, the only picture of the whole day that featured James looking scared out of his mind, tie askew, hair messier than ever, and Sirius grinning like an idiot. The actual wedding photos had been taken by a professional, but Remus got plenty of shots of the prank he and Sirius pulled, in which they blew up a fake cake with patented Marauder fireworks. Then, he'd see the pictures of Lily, James, and Harry. Those were ones that almost made the worn werewolf cry, even though he'd been out of tears for years. The pictures of Sirius were difficult to look at because his death was still so fresh in Remus' mind. He'd been there, pulled Harry back from the veil when he too wanted to follow the third last Marauder. But he knew that Harry needed to know these stories, and he was the only one left who could tell him. There were pictures of Sirius grinning madly in his Gryffindor tie, so proud that he hadn't gotten into Slytherin…pictures of Sirius and James throwing snowballs at each other and Lily in Seventh Year. He had pictures that Lily had taken, on the last full moon they'd spent together of Moony, Padfoot, and Prongs.

Sometimes, but rarely, he looked at the pictures of Peter. Those were difficult, but not because they made Remus sad, but because they made him so angry. He still didn't know how none of them saw it at the beginning.

The ones he'd taken of all four of them together, as the Marauders, were the hardest of all the pictures to look at, and the hardest to write about. He couldn't put into words what having friends that knew what he was and still liked him meant. He knew that Harry understood what that was like. He knew his child would too, as much as it pained him to think it. The child would have a metamorphagus for a mother, a werewolf for a father, and, it had been decided the second Remus and Tonks reconciled, Harry Potter as his/her godfather. Normal wouldn't be a word that would ever apply to the child.

The last time he wrote he looked at the very last picture in the book. Harry had given it to him last Christmas, because even Harry had known Remus would end up being the last Marauder. It was a picture of Remus standing defiantly alone near the old tree on the Hogwarts grounds. Remus smiled, set his quill and the book down, and looked at his wife. He nodded. It was finally time for him to do something that would be remembered.

Sometimes, pictures, especially ones taken by a certain now battle hardened, then thirteen year old who would be the one anyone would die for, really do say things without using any words at all.


End file.
